The blessing that I am counting today is the simple gift of running water. To appreciate water was a lesson that I was taught from this adventure, because when Rich and I moved here we only had access to well water. We had an antiquated old piston pump in our cellar that used to bang away like a demented miner every time we turned the tap on. As most of you know we live hand to mouth (and no I am not ashamed to say that!) so we were dependent on that well. But in a hot spell in the summer of 2017 the well ran dry! You can read all about it in my post…..Une leçon de vie atout votre eau

From that incident I learnt just how precious running water is, especially hot running water. In the post you will read how we managed to shower, but it was not being able to turn on my tap to wash my hands in hot water that got to me the most, especially when I was cooking chicken!

It is something simple, that most of us just take for granted; it is always there when you turn on the tap, and then suddenly it isn’t!

I became aware of how much water we use, and waste; and ever since then I think about my water consumption; not because of the cost, but because I realise what a precious commodity it is – when you don’t have it you would understand that you would choose it over diamonds and gold any day of the week!

We now finally have mains water connected to our home, it was only connected in September of this year; and it was only due to the kindness of our wonderful neighbour and commune leader that we have had water for the last eighteen months (apart for the four days in the winter when the ‘Beast From The East’ came and froze the pipe!)

So today, when I get in my hot shower, and wash my hair, I will count my blessing that I am able to have a hot shower, and I will think of all the people who cannot have that simple pleasure, including those in the Western world where water is readily available but they have no access to that simple dignity of being able to wash. At times it makes me feel ashamed.

So enjoy your hot running water today; if you are able help others to access the same then please do; and count your blessings in that shower, don’t rush it because you have something else to do, or somewhere else to go; just stop for a moment and enjoy that simple pleasure.

More and more people are joining in now, please share this series, let’s get everyone thinking about the blessings that they have, and perhaps the blessings they can give to others.

As most people who read my blog know, one of my greatest pleasures in life is drinking a cup of tea in bed. I like it strong, with a little milk and half a sugar. So this is my blessing for day four:being able to drink tea in bed.

i have chosen this because I am blessed to have ready access to water (more of that later in my ‘counting my blessings’ series). I am also blessed because I have access to tea! And I am blessed because I have a bed, when so many people (even in the Western world) do not. For that I think we should all be ashamed. In England right now homeless people are dying on the streets. If I had the money to give them I would donate to Shelter, the Salvation Army, and Crisis to help them. I was so pleased and proud when my sister told me she had.

We have had a busy few days, so today we are having a day of doing nothing, apart from taking the dogs for a walk. Both of our Welshie pups are re-homes, and in addition I have Sophie the Sofa Loaf, who we rescued when we arrived in France, snuggled amongst the blankets next to me. You can read more of her story here….

So I suppose you could say that we are doing what we can, when we can, and for that we are also blessed.

A big thanks to those who have stopped, and thought, and shared their blessings, the small things. But I know there are many more who haven’t, so lets start a trend, let’s share the small things and inspire others, in this world of excess.

If you like these posts please share, I have put links to the previous three days of this series at the bottom of this blog.

And last but not least I am always blessed to have this snuggle bunny in my bed! (He’s going to kill me for that!)

Today I realised, as I looked at my photos, just how many blessings I have, because I couldn’t decide which photo to choose! That in itself, is a blessing!

But I chose this tin of quality street because for most in my native country, England, this is one of the ‘must haves’ at Christmas time. Quality street is a tin of various chocolate and toffee sweets, and everyone tends to have a favourite: mine being the coconut chocolate toffee, Rich’s is the hazelnut in soft caramel. I think it would be fair to say that over eighty per cent of houses in England would have a tin of quality street in the house at this time of year.

It is a blessing to us now because they are difficult to get in France, and also expensive. But I found this small tin in a Belgian shop on offer. Despite repeated requests I wouldn’t let Rich open it until Christmas Eve, and where in the past we would have just picked out our favourites (from a tin twice the size of this one) and picked at the others, and more often than not left the toffees in the tin for months into the new year; this time we are savouring every one.

It made me realise how much we took for granted and wasted i our life. The tin is now three quarters empty and something tells me there won’t be any in the new year!

I don’t waste anything any more, and that is a blessing. Along with the bottle of champagne someone bought us in the summer! We polished that off yesterday!

Have a good Boxing day folks, it is just a normal day here in France; but we will be celebrating it with some English friends.

I invite you all to join in, share a small thing that you count as a blessing.

So I am sitting bed with my cup of tea, looking out of the window at this. It is a bright sunny morning here in rural France; and I am looking at my favourite tree. I have written about it often, calling it my Tree of Tao, because it just goes with the flow whatever the weather; it just takes life as it comes.

To be able to see this every day, is a blessing because I have incredibly bad eyesight, and I treasure the gift of sight. It’s also a blessing because it calms me and grounds me, reminding me that we are just small blips on a much bigger picture; and that all the things we think are important aren’t that important at all.

It sways in the breeze, and it sways in the storms and raging winds, it is always serene; when we look nature shows us so much.

Happy Christmas everyone, share with us the small things you count as blessings, they could inspire others.

As I have got older I have started to find that we seem to have lost what Christmas is about.

Christmas was originally a pagan festival to celebrate the Winter Solstice, it was just taken over by the Christian faith and Christmas was born. It was meant to be a time for reflection on the year past and to celebrate the small things we have. I really believe have lost that along the way.

My beautiful boy Harley, who we re-homed five years ago, after a relationship breakdown took place. He made us fall in love with the Welsh Terrier, and he is a mummy’s boy. We nearly lost him last year after he ruptured his disc in his back, you can read about it here…

Today this is my blessing: Harley.

I hope that in this time of madness and frenetic rushing about this may inspire some of you to just stop; and reflect; and then join me in sharing your blessings with us by telling us the one small thing that you are counting as a blessing each day over this time of celebrations and gratitude.

For the first time since we moved here we have actually finished work for Christmas. You know, a bit like that ‘ Friday Night’ feeling when work is over for the week and you ‘crack open’ a beer ( or in my case pour a glass of wine) we finished work last night and sat on the sofa and did just that; and it felt good, it felt as if we are finally ‘living a normal’, structured life.

I am now sitting in bed on a Saturday morning drinking my tea and pondering the week ahead, not least the day ahead. I have a few final things to get from the supermarket; we are having a simple Christmas with turkey, big sausages wrapped in bacon with honey and whole grain mustard poured over them, Brussel sprouts sautéed with smoked lardons (my favourite), roast potatoes and parsnips, assorted veg, Yorkshire puddings, and stuffing (and trust me that’s toned down from what I cooked in England!). We’re not doing presents, our gift will be watching the dogs play with their new toys.

When I get back today I am helping Rich cut logs and, yes you’ve guessed it! I will be log splitting! Tonight we are out for Rich’s ‘works Christmas do’ and it feels weird to be able to say that, but oh so good! I will even pull our some of my glamorous jewellery to wear!

Tomorrow I am cleaning the bedrooms, ironing and, you guessed it, log splitting! It’s all part of rural living.

On Monday it will be the final countdown, which means I change my bedding (there is nothing like a clean bed) and moving furniture to accommodate a record player (yes we can play our vinyl!) that we were gifted, and then we are off to a shindig with some friends.

Then we have the big day, for us it will be a relaxed day of snuggling, late dinner on our laps (we are totally chilling it down) and tv. late in the night I will make cold turkey sandwiches with pickles.

On boxing day (which they don’t celebrate in France) we are off to another get together, a buffet lunch at a dear friends.

I am really looking forward to this Christmas with new friends, it will be a simple Christmas full of it’s real meaning: spending time with good people and those you love, only this time it will be the new friends we have made on our adventure. As I write this I realise that is our Christmas gift.

Someone said to me on Saturday that she had missed my blogs recently; and guessed after my last blog that I was,perhaps, struggling with life out here; but that she hoped not because I gave her hope.

I wasn’t necessarily struggling with life out here, I was struggling with my belief that life would show me the way, and that despite all the crap good would come.

If you’ve been reading my blog you know I follow the teachings and philosophy of the Tao; I know that where there’s bad there’s good, and where there’s good there’s bad; that you may have a lot of crap come your way but if you hold onto your faith good will come; and things over the past few months were making that hard, I was struggling to believe.

But over the past few weeks so many people have supported me, helped us, and they gave me hope: my sister sent me a medicated mouthwash and mouth gel, my friend Saveena called to say the assessor was coming out for the roof, and both she and my sister contacted me almost daily to check I was okay. It all helped but I still struggled.

So on Thursday I looked up and asked for help to regain my belief; because I knew that good things would not come if I could not believe. An hour later my IPad pinged and what I needed started to come my way. By Friday my faith was back; and I started to see ALL My blessings: good friends, new friends, our son, our family, our animals, the stunning place where we live, and not least our love for each other.

I had worked hard all week creating pretty Christmas stock to sell at a craft fair on Saturday at a beautiful old French Mill half an hour from us.

But when Saturday came it was minus six degrees and thick ice, with icicles were hanging off our garden table, and when Rich wound down his window there was another window of ice in its place! The roads were treacherous. But we trundled on, with the van skidding everywhere in the sleet, and set up our stall.

Sadly in the end, and understandably given the weather, only about ten people visited the fair. But we still had a wonderful day. We met two lovely, kind people. They too were doing what they could to keep their dream alive, and we laughed all day. They had spent all summer making these wonderful reindeer and you can find them on Facebook as la petit Cretouffiere.

At the end of the day we all gave each other something: cakes, key rings, angels, chocolates,

And my dear, kind friend gave me this stunning lamp, which now takes pride of place on our stairs (walls to be decorated next year!) projecting stars all over the stairwell

Stars are a big thing in my house, a star is for life not just for Christmas! So I decided to keep my newest design for me – twinkle, twinkle! It now takes pride of place in my bedroom, twinkling in the twinkly lights…

It can be replicated if required by anyone…

At the end of the day we all helped each other load up and tidy before the night drew in. We got home to a freezing house (gotta love that stone!) that took three hours to warm up! But we changed into layers of fleecy pyjamas, Snuggly socks (two pairs!) opened the wine and watched the Strictly Come Dancing final; with a roaring fire, four sleepy cats, and two snuggled Welshies.

I know that we are blessed, we have each other, and we fought tooth and nail to keep that; no money in the world can buy what we have. We have no presents (but the dogs have one) and we don’t need them. Our Christmas present will be snuggling in bed with a cup of tea on Christmas morning, and eating our dinner on our laps, not caught up in all the hype! My happiness is complete with our Christmas decorations, that I have collected over the years.

We have now been invited to various shin digs and I am busy. This morning I woke up to this stunning sunrise and I thought to myself ‘all I had to do was believe.’

And I do, my belief is strong, nothing can take that away, it may wane but it will never leave me.

Apologies to all of my Moisy’s French adventure readers for the lack of postings, it is safe to say it has been a bad week!

I have been busy, blogging on my other blog (phew two blogs are hard to keep up, and maintaining your social media presence is even harder!) and also preparing some new stock for a Christmas Fayre I am attending on Saturday the 15th. So I have been trying out some new designs and making little angels..

With wooden christmas trees on stands to follow, and of course my signature stars (still a work in progress folks) I also have some unicorns to finish and it is all very time consuming.

But this is not why it has been a crappy week, a week that started off badly and then got worse – although is starting to look a bit brigher now the weekend is on the way. Let me explain:

On Monday I had to go to the bank, and do some errands. We were up early and there was a slight drizzle in the air when I left; but as I drove to our post office it started to actually rain. I arrived at the post office only to find that it was shut! Now I don’t like the post office at the next town of Gorron, I find the woman in there to be a sour faced cow! She never smiles, barks at you and is just generally rude (think the cliche of a rude French person and that is her, she really lets the side down.) But I had to post a parcel so needs must, and I knew I would have to go there as I was going into Gorron anyway.

Off I set and as I drove through the grey French winter countryside the heavens opened and it poured down. When I arrived at the post office there were no spaces in the car park so I had to park and walk a couple of minutes in torrential rain. I looked like a drowned rat. I gave the parcel to ‘les miserables’ and weirdly it cost me ten euros more than a larger and heavier parcel I had posted the week before in the post office at Ambrieres. How I longed to be able to go there with the lovely, friendly French lady; but, alas it was not to be.

Out I came and hurried back to my car, still in the torrential rain; in fact by now I could hardly see there was so much water on my glasses. I then drove on to the bank which was shut, as was expected, but I knew that I could still access the foyer to pay my money in (banks are shut in France on a Monday, hence the term bank holiday) But to do that I needed a rib which I did not have with me, so I got a rib from the cashpoint (still in the pouring rain) and went inside. But oh no! This was the day when nothing was going to be simple! The bank had no pens to complete the deposit envelope! I went back out to my car (in the pouring rain) in the hope that there would be a pen there, but of course there wasn’t so off I went to the tabac (in the pouring rain) to buy a pen; then back to the bank (in the pouring rain) to deposit the money. I had experienced enough, so I then went home and sod whatever else we needed!

However the morning from hell was not over; as I entered our kitchen there was rain pouring in down the wall from our roof. The roof we have only just had replaced! Now this is another story that I will tell in the future – once the issue has been resolved, but all I will say is that I will write about it and, despite a thinly veiled threat from someone, the story will be told. I pay for this blog, and I will write what I want!

Having said that there are some people who don’t warrant the word space so the story will be what actually happens and not about people who are so insignificant that they don’t need to be included. There is an important part here though: For those living in France it is worth taking out legal cover with your house insurance, they will then deal with issues like this for you, whilst getting your roof repaired.

Anyhow….. The rain poured in and we had buckets and bowls everywhere which meant tht we had to try and resolve things with odious people which you might have guessed we were unable to resolve.

What a day! I think I will start the week again tomorrow I thought; but I should have known better than to think that it couldn’t get any worse! On Tuesday I broke my tooth, and it was so sharp that it cut my tongue open. I now have a very sore tongue, am still trying to resolve our healthcare cover and cannot afford to go to the dentist! So I did what any self respecting person would do who is in pain and I filed the sharp bits of my tooth myself! Hopefully this will resolve it!

It is funny how some people can bring so much darkness into your lives when you let them in; and I knew that the problems we experienced this week with the roof was one of these occasions and that the only way to stop it was to stop interacting them. But even so it can sometimes still bring you down. I have documented many times the awful people that there are out here, but I am also a positive person normally and I do try and see the good; despite this I was starting to lose that ability. I was in immense pain with my tongue, and couldn’t speak properly; but despite the pain I was in hubby, as ever, managed to make me laugh when he went off to get some bits from the shop with the list of things I had told him to get: Cat litter, bottle of wine, and potatoe wedges. Here is what he wrote (whilst giggling all the time):

As always I perservered and I got my things done for the craft fair (well some anyway) but I could not shake the feeling of being pissed off: pissed off with people’s shitty attitude; with the pain in my mouth, with French bloody bureaucracy, with people telling you there is an English speaking line and then nobody there speaks English! Pissed off with my mouth really hurting because I have to keep speaking French to people (which is not easy when you have to roll nearly every syllable!) Pissed off with feeling as if I am getting nowhere when nobody rings me back! Pissed off with feeling like I am getting nowhere generally. I had actually started looking at the possibility of moving to Ireland! At least I would have family there and they speak English (well not for Rich, he struggles to understand them, so he said he may as well move to Germany!).

By Wednesday evening I did not want to put my Christmas tree up, I did not want to go the craft fayre, I was in agony and could have cried. So on Thursday morning I messaged a person who I think it is fair to say is (along with my dear friend Mary) one of the kindest people I have met. I just asked if she was up for a chat because I felt pissed off. Now she knows, as you all know, that this is not like me; I am, generally, a positive person but I was struggling and she knew it. She rang me within ten minutes invited me over and helped me with contacting who I needed to about the roof – who were really helpful and prompt (I can say no more at this time) she chased the French bureaucrats with regard to our health cover and they are sending a form to Rich to get it sorted (yey!) and she gave me a hug. That was all I needed. When I came home hubby was worried about me – I am normally the one who keeps him buoyant, so he sat on the sofa and did something so simple – he tickled my leg! My sister called me to see how I was, nagged me to rinse my mouth in salt water, because I know that she worries about me; and I knew that I am blessed to have people who care.

Then I looked out of the window and I saw this….

I remembered what Marty (a lovely man who reads this blog) always says about how blessed we are; and I know that we cannot have it all. By last night I had started to cheer up; I just hope my tongue gets better now!

Like I always say in my other blog it is the small things that count, and they make up the good things. Big hugs to those who helped me this week, big hugs.

When we first moved to France Rich we were ‘given’ Sophie by some people we had just met. In fact she was just brought to the place where Rich was working and left with him because someone’s wife had seen on my Facebook page that I loved cats! We were not given a name for her ;and the person who gave her to us had found her so they did not know her history, how old she was or anything. I suppose that you could say that good old serendipity looked out for Sophie on that day!

Rich could not just ‘let her go’ as he was told to do if he did not want her; so he brought her home to what was then a rental property we were staying in. The first thing I did was offer her some cat treats and it was only as she struggled to pick them up off the floor that we realised that she had no teeth! I looked up why a cat would lose its teeth and established that for a younger cat it was likely to be stress related; and I knew that this poor little, determined cat had been through rough times.

We took her to the vets because she had a cough and also because in France they do not tend to have their cats neutered; and as we already had four other cats and Harley the Welshie at that time it was essential that no more kittens would be coming our way. The vet flipped her over and informed us that she was between six and eight years old and had been neutered! From that we assumed that she had been owned by English people, or a French person who had really loved her as a pet. Either way it meant that her story was incredibly sad because somewhere along the way she had lost the people she had loved.Over the months it became very clear that she had obviously been loved by someone in the past who had cuddled her because she would snuggle up on you, the closer to you skin the better and go to sleep; making her story all the more tragic.

There was another side to her though and she would swipe out with her razor sharp claws for no apparent reason, or at the slightest movement of your hands, especially if you moved your hands near her or raised them up near her; again we could only assume that there had been times when someone had hit her and raised their hand to her.

When she first arrived all she did was eat and sleep on some sofa’s in a room that we did not use; I think she was literally exhausted; and hence the name Sophie The Sofa Loaf.

Now introducing a fully grown cat to four other adult cats and a Welshie is not easy and Sophie has never really been accepted into the fold. She would be so unpredictable and stressy that our cats just stopped trying to be nice to her; and sadly the two youngest started to pick on her. We do call her our ‘special needs’ cat because she can be fine one moment and then biting you the next (with he gums) and has to be calmed down; add to that she doesn’t like change and becomes highly agitated we have had to accomodate her over the years.

Sadly in the first two years she lived with us our two youngest cats picked on her, and we would have to settle her down in a camp where she could see nothing else (the rocking chair with a blanket over it!). She drove me nuts at times, and would leap out from under the bed and attach herself to your leg; but Rich has always been so patient with her and she sits on his shoulder as he walks around the garden, and curles up on his belly at night.

Over time this kindness paid off and she started to calm down, and have her own little quirky ways: Whenever we arrived back from shopping she would run out from wherever she was hiding to greet us, meowing her head off and we started to call her ‘Cat/Dog’; or you will find her sitting in the sink! Any sink, bathroom or kitchen; and sometimes when she is really relaxed she will look at you with her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth, oblivious.

We have to hide any food (butter, cheese, chicken, and only recently my freshly cooked walnut tart!) from her; because she is a cow for climbing up to eat what she shouldn’t; but despite her eccentricity (her other name is Nitty Nutty Nora) I fell in love with this vulnerable little cat with such a sad story to tell.

Fast forward to yesterday: I decided that the Welshie’s needed a walk; I have spent so much time writing lately that they have been cooped up in our acre of garden, and despite catching the odd rat they were bored.

So off I went with what Rich and I affectionately call the ‘stunt kite’ (you try walking two welshies on the lead!) down our road; as we left the garden Sophie came running over and decided that she would come too!

Picture the scene: There I was walking down the road with two Welshies and a cat in tow (see I told you:Cat/Dog!) I was laughing to myself as this little cat pranced along beside me and the Welshie terrors without a care in the world and thought to myself ‘the French must think I am mad!’

Now our lane is narrow and the French drive like madmen’; as we walked the postman came driving down the road towards us in his van; he smiled and waved and could see I had Sophie Loaf with me, so he slowed down because she decided that she was not going to move! Eventually she moved over to the side and the problem was over; or so I thought. But as postie drove back up the road Sophie decided she was going to sit in the road and front him! He did slow down but instead of moving over to the side Sophie decided to run, right in front of his van, and the French being the French he carried on driving terrifying her along the way. She started to run up the road in front of his van and as she was running up the road away from me, our other neighbour came down the road in his van meaning Sophie was in trouble.

I was shouting at her to move to the side, the dogs were barking and she was terrified! She jumped into a field by a derelict house and both of the vans sped past; how they missed her I do not know. I was confident that she had not been hit, confident that she would follow me back down the road to our house; as I had started to make my way back becasue it had started to rain. I stopped intermittently and called and called her but Sophie did not come.

I put the dogs back in the house and went back out into the garden to call her, but there was no sign. By now it was pouring with rain and the wind was blowing up and I just hoped she could hear me calling her. I started to worry. ‘She’ll come back in a couple of hours” I said to myself, but by four o clock in the evening the dark was drawing in and there was still no sign of Sophie.

I decided to go drive back to where I had last seen her. I pulled up by the derelict house where she had been and called and called her through my car window, but there was still no sign of her anywhere. I got out, wearing only my slippers, and looked in the ditch and the field where I had seen her jump into; and then I started to question: ‘surely the van didn’t hit her, I watched and she was okay. Wasn’t she?’

When Rich got home it was blowing a hooley, but he went back out to look for her with a torch; she loves him so much we thought she would respond to his voice. But there was still no sign. She did not come home for dinner and by the time I went to bed I had tears in my eyes for the little grey cat that had experienced so much hardship. Just when she was happy and coming for walks like a cat/dog it all seems to have been taken away from her.

I kept waking all through the night wondering why hadn’t I gone back to check on her? Why had I assumed that she was okay? Why hadn’t I helped her? By the morning there was still no sign and it was still raining. So I got dressed and before Rich left for work we went down together to the place I had last seen her, by the fenced off derelict house; hoping that she had not died in a ditch on her own in the pouring rain.

I called her, Rich called her, but there was nothing. I started to cry and said ‘Poor Sophie, she just had a lovely life and now this, life is so cruel’. With that Rich climbed over the barb wire fence into the overgrown field calling her as he went; suddenly he came running back to say he could here her; she was in the derelict house!

Rich went back to the van to turn it off so we could hear clearly and there it was: Sophie’s loud meow answering us every time we called her. She was in an upstairs room in the boarded up house.

We were clearly trespassing because only recently they had replaced the fencing to stop people going on the land; but we did not care, we didn’t know if she was laying in there injured or what. I called her and called her and you could hear that she was following the sound of my voice until she appeared at the ledge of the upstairs window. God knows what the French people in the house opposite were thinking: The mad English are now climbing all over the derelict house opposite in the pitch black with torches!

We through caution to the wind and Rich precariously climbed up on the wall by the steps and then up again hanging onto rusty bits of metal hanging out of the house, until he was about a foot below her ‘come on Soph, jump on daddy’s shoulder’ he said; and she did! There he was my six foot one husband climbing down a wall of very old French house, with a cat on his shoulder!!

Needless to say she was hugged, fed and given milk and cream. Now she is ensconced behind mummy as she tells you all her story. Love conquers everything if you let it, and I love this little, pain in the arse, cat!

When we originally moved to France I always had it in the back of my mind that I would write the book that I am now serialising in my other blog .

But I also thought that I would be able to continue to work in some way, and I think I said many moons ago that I would do anything. Well arthritis has put paid to that, and whilst I can still do any admin task I cannot clean gites, and chateaus. or houses anymore, or help Rich, because my hands have now given up the ghost, as has one of my legs. In addition I think that all of the horrible people that I met along the way was life’s way of telling me to have the confidence to write. I believe that I will get published one day.

It does drive me nuts that I am not working in some way, so I turned my hand to writing my book, and this blog, and the other blog, and now it has turned into a full time job – albeit not a paid one at the moment.

But there have been so many other rewards: The cyber friends that I have made across the world including the USA and Canada. I have had the most wonderful conversations and giggles with them, not least Marty from Snakes in the Grass who has sent me the most wonderful emails, or Dolly Allen from the Queen Is In with whom I have had some real giggles – not least last week talking about cockney accents and Dick Van Dyke! Methinks we are pretty similar. I have been told that I must visit should I ever find myself in America – how lovely is that?! You may want to read their blogs folks I can recommend them.

But over the last two months there have been people who have contacted me for help in understanding what has happened to them, and for hope that it can get better. That is why I have written my book, that is why I have started the other blog. Who would have thought that out of so much heartbreak good can come from it by using what you learnt to help others?

There have also been people who have contacted me to say how I have inspired them, through my writing, to take the plunge and have that adventure. Not least my dear friend Mary, who is off to the rural countryside in England and doing something new, and a lovely lady from England who told me that my post about what happened to me, and my breakdown made her cry and realise that she had to make change. For some people I know… I little bit more about me

But more than anything I never would have believed that this adventure would lead me to a whole host of people who just want to give hope and support to others, in what are really difficult times in their lives.

I just wanted to say this – you never know what an adventure will hold for you, I didn’t expect this!

Have a good Sunday folks.

And this one’s for Marty – a lovely foggy sunrise that Rich snapped last week.